Taming Nightingales
by Victory Tastes Like Chocolate
Summary: -on hiatus-
1. In Which We Meet the Mysterious One

_I do not own Boondock Saints. _

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><p>The Italian hauled Audrey into the bar by the collar of her shirt. She landed on her face, vaguely aware of other people in the bar. She didn't pay attention to them, though. She simply flipped over so she could see the Italian, because he was the one sent to kill her. She adjusted her glasses.<p>

Her hands clenched tight into fists, her nails cutting into her palms. The pain kept her from panicking, kept her focused. She had lived like a coward; she was _not_ about to die like one. She forced herself to stare right into the man's eyes. It was not encouraging.

"Last chance," he said, in his ridiculous accent, "Tell me what I want to hear."

She never took her eyes off him, but had to swallow several times before she found her voice. "I'll never," she began, swallowing again, knowing this would condemn her to death, "ever, help you. If you didn't already know that, you wouldn't be shoving a gun in my face."

The man shrugged and pulled back on the hammer. He had known that would be her answer. The question had been a simple formality. His finger was on the trigger when suddenly, "Hey, what do you think you're doing?" His accent was Irish.

Her head snapped up and she looked around for the first time. "Irish?" She looked back at the Italian. "You brought me to an Irish pub? Are you an idiot?" Maybe it was different in Boston, but where she came from, there was a huge animosity between the Irish and the Italians. He glared at her, but he seemed worried for the first time. He glanced at the men watching, the ones at the bar, a big mistake. She took full advantage of it.

In one swift motion, she rolled under the reach of his gun, no longer in the line of fire. She reached up, grabbed his arm and flipped him over her, pinning his arm to the ground and stepping on it as hard as she could. She heard bones snap, and the man screamed. She kicked the gun out of his hand. "You'll heal," she spat. Then she looked up, glancing around her, because it occurred to her, belatedly, that that had been too easy.

Two men were also pinning the Italian. She suspected they'd helped her flip him. "I didn't need your help, you know," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. They didn't look up at her, choosing to learn from the Italian's mistake. One of them snorted, though. "Well?" she asked. "What now?"

The two men thought about it. "What do you think?" one of them asked her.

She shrugged, deciding not to think much about what was going on until later. "I'm a lazy girl. It's easiest to let him go."

"If you insist," the other one said, and the both backed off at the same time. The Italian struggled to his feet, cradling his broken arm, glaring at them all. She was going to let him walk away, but the arm was her fault. It looked awful.

She sighed, berating herself even as she said "I'll splint that for you." She pointed to his arm. The Italian gave her a long glare that said both _no_ and _I'm going to kill you. _

The boys noticed. "Hey," one said, "we could change our minds you know." The Italian got the message and got out fast. The boys didn't follow him. "He'll probably be back," one said, as he closed the door. She chose to ignore that statement.

"I'm Audrey," she said, reaching out to shake their hands. "Audrey Owens." _Should I have used my real name_? She wondered. She didn't know. She was new to this underground shit. Well, not really, but she was new to being on this side of the underground shit.

"I'm Connor MacManus, this is my brother Murphy," said the taller one. He wasn't that much taller though, and the difference was probably just his hair.

Audrey appraised them both. "Fraternal twins," she said, a statement, not a question. "Interesting."

"What's interesting?" asked Murphy.

She just shook her head. "It's not important." She stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do now. Should she just leave? She wasn't exactly sure where she was, and she hadn't said thank you yet.

"Do you want a drink?" Connor offered. She shook her head.

"No, I'm actually waiting for the shock to start. After all, I was nearly killed, and I just broke a man's arm. In two places," she reminded them, holding up two fingers just to emphasize the point. "Both bones, the ulna and the radius. It'll be a nasty fix, requiring at couple pins," she said, busying her mind with the details of the breaks instead of the details of the gun, or what would have happened to her face if it had gone off.

"Sounds like a good time to have a drink to me," Murphy replied, heading toward the bar. "Come on." Connor seemed to take it upon himself to lead her to the barstool. She started to lean on him, but caught herself and pulled away. She had to remember who she was.

"Something warm and non-alcoholic, like coffee," she said as she hauled herself up on the bar stool. The boys sat on either side of her. She lay her head down on the bar, and was immediately pulled back up. "What?"

"Come on," Connor said, smiling, "You can't be out already! You haven't had a drink yet."

She smiled wearily. "I guess I can't hold my liquor." The bartender handed her a drink, with a long stuttering speech she didn't quite catch. It included a lot of shouting fuck ass, but it ended in coffee for her so she didn't mind at all. She sipped it quietly, listening to the talk around her. Some of it was in Irish Gaelic, which Audrey could not make heads nor tails of.

"So what was that about?" Murphy asked her after a while. She was surprised to realize that he'd given her sufficient time to calm down and get adjusted. His timing could not have been more precise.

She raised her eyebrow. "Skillful timing," she remarked, taking another sip of coffee. "Well," she began, but stopped. _Keep your fat mouth shut, Audrey_, she thought, berating herself. _Learn from past mistakes. _"That's none of your goddamn business," she said quietly, laying her head back down on the bar. "Pull me up again, and I'll smack you." This time her voice had more volume. She was serious.

"Don't go to sleep on us now, missy," someone said. She suspected Connor but she was getting very tired.

"And why not?"

"You might have a concussion," someone else said, a voice she didn't recognize.

"If you think I have a concussion, why did you offer me a drink?" she asked, but raised her head, nonetheless. "I don't have a concussion. Trust me, I'm a doctor."

"You are?" Murphy asked, one eyebrow raised. His expression was mischievous and cocky, making her feel like a child he was indulging. And worse, he was right.

She sat up and frowned into her mug. "Well, not really, but I'm in med school. That counts."

"Sure it does, lass," said Connor, taking a big swig of his drink.

She scowled at them. "Well I can perform basic first aid in any case. Set broken bones, clean cuts, bullet wounds, infections, whatever doesn't require major surgery..." she trailed off and drank some more coffee. Then she paid for her drink and got up.

"Where are you going?" Connor asked. His tone implied she was being an idiot, and she knew he was right.

"My place," she said, heading toward the door. _Oops_, she thought,_ I still haven't thanked them yet._

"Alone?" Murphy asked, looking at her like she was crazy. She knew he was totally right, but what choice did she have? She asked him as much. "You could have someone go with you," he suggested.

"No. Thank you for your help earlier, but…" she trailed off, searching for a polite way to say fuck off. She couldn't find one, so she went with a simple shrug and continued to walk out. She heard footsteps behind her and sighed. So much for being polite.

"At least let us walk you home," Connor said, jogging slightly to catch up to her. It irked her that his strides were significantly longer than hers. She thought the Irish were supposed to be short. He was at least a head taller than her.

"I don't need an escort," she said more forcefully than before.

"Yeah, well we don't want all our hard work to go to waste," Murphy said, coming up on her other side. "We just saved you. It'd be a shame to have to save you again."

She rolled her eyes. "You guys just want a better thank you out of me," she muttered.

Connor's eyes twinkled. "That too."

She stopped walking. "Let me go alone and I promise to bake you a cake. From scratch with frosting and everything." She was good at baking pretty much anything, except bread. She hadn't quite got the feeling for yeast yet.

The two brothers looked at each other. "What kind?" Connor asked.

"I am open to requests. I'm bias against chocolate, so it's probably not fair if I decide on my own," she replied, smiling slightly. Her roommate could not understand anyone's aversion to chocolate, let alone a fellow woman's.

"What do you think, Murph?" Connor asked.

"I'll bet she's an awful cook," Muphy replied. She slapped them both on the shoulder.

"I'm a damn fine baker, I'll have you know!" she said indignantly. "If you don't decide I'll make spice cake with penuche frosting!" Which was her favorite, but almost no one knew what penuche entailed and were slightly afraid of it.

The twins glanced at each other again. "Can you make red velvet?"

She frowned. Red velvet was just chocolate cake with a shitload of red food coloring. "Yes," she nodded. "I'll bring it to McGinty's in," she did some quick calculations, "about six days."

Connor raised an eyebrow. "That's St. Patrick's Day," he said.

"Is it?" she asked. "I had no idea." Liar, liar. "See you then," she said, walking away.

She got to her apartment without incident, but her heart sank when she got there. The door was slightly ajar, something her roommate would never do. It had been forced open. Was someone unpleasant waiting for her on the other side? Why hadn't she let the MacManus boys walk her home?

Oh yeah, pride. Audrey cursed. She supposed there was a reason pride was called a deadly sin. She quickly removed her wallet from her pocket and hid it in her shoe before pushing the door open and entering. For one long moment, nothing happened. Then something small rushed at her along the ground.

She jumped but recovered quickly from the shock to see it was just a dog. _Her_ dog, an Olde English Bulldogge she'd raised from a puppy and named Rochester. "Oh, thank God," she said, dropping to her knees so she could give the brown furball a proper hug. He got slobber all over her, but she didn't mind. "What happened?" she asked him, but Rochester didn't really answer. He just continued to lick her. "Where's Grace?"

She stood, "Come on boy," she said. "Let's see what they did."

The place was a mess, and her mirror was broken, but the picture of her sister still had all the cash hidden in the back. Even her stash of laundry quarters, out in the open, was untouched. "Not good," she said to her dog. The biggest problem with the place was that she could not find her roommate. "Grace?" she called. "Where are you?" Her hands tightened into fists. Where was her friend?

"Audrey?" came a voice that was barely a whisper. "Is that you?"

"Grace!" Audrey yelled, rushing toward the voice to find her friend on the fire escape. "What happened?"

Grace looked up at her with wide eyes. "Are you okay? I was so worried! What happened?" She crawled through the window back into the apartment.

"Nothing," she said. "I'm fine." Instead, she examined her roommate. Grace was a very thin girl, a stick basically, with long blonde hair that curled loosely as it fell. She had large green eyes and a healthy tan. Of the two of them, there was no question that Grace was the pretty one.

But tonight Grace's usually friendly, open face was lined with worry. "You don't look fine," she said. "You're going to have a really fabulous shiner tomorrow."

She sighed. "What happened to you?" she asked.

Grace looked down at the dog between them and explained what happened. "Who were they, Audrey?" she asked when she was finished.

The other girl shrugged. "You expect me to know? I have no idea."

Her friend gave her a withering look. "Who gave you that shiner?" she asked accusingly.

Audrey's shoulders sagged. "Look, I've got to go, I can't stay here," she said, turning to walk out. "Take care of Rochester for me."

"What!" Grace exclaimed. "Oh no," she said, grabbing her friends arm. "There is _no_ way you're just going to walk out of here without a proper explanation!" Using a strength she didn't seem to have, Grace dragged Audrey into the living room and threw her on the couch. "Explain."

Audrey sighed. It was at times like these she remembered Grace had an uncle in the FBI. She spilled the entire story, start to finish. When she was done, Grace had her head in her hands.

"Those boys deserve more than a cake, you know," she said. "What could have happened-"

Audrey crossed her arms over her chest. "I'll spend more effort on the cake than they did helping me. That's fair." Grace gave her a look, but let the matter drop.

"What are we going to do?" she asked.

Audrey considered for a moment. "Well, I can't stay here. I can't risk them finding me again."

"Let's just call-" Grace began.

"Not his jurisdiction," Audrey replied. "Besides, I don't have any names, and I don't want police involvement. Surely you, of all people, can understand that."

Grace nodded. "I don't like it, but I get it. Well, you realize if you want to go into hiding, you're going to have to give up school."

Audrey looked down. "I know."

They sat there for a moment, and then Audrey got up. "Well, I'm packing."

"I'm coming with you," Grace said. Audrey opened her mouth to refuse, but Grace interrupted her. "You think that they won't try to get to you through me? Besides, it's not as much of an uprooting for me as it is for you." Audrey stuck her tongue out at her friend, but knew she was right. She also knew that there was no force on earth that was going to stop Grace from coming.

They packed in silence, left a note for the landlord, and put a leash on Rochester. It wasn't until they stepped outside when they realized they didn't have a clue where they were going.

"Where-" Grace started to ask, but Audrey interrupted her.

"My father has contacts all over the world," she said, staring stonily ahead. "I'm sure he has some in Boston."

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><p><em>Rochester is awesome, by the way. I think he's the best character I've created in a long time. <em>

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	2. In Which We Meet the Pretty One

I do not own Boondock Saints.

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><p>Grace was curled up on the sofa, trying to read her magazine, but she kept getting distracted. "What's keeping her so long?" she asked the brown dog curled up at her feet.<p>

Rochester looked up at her with his big brown eyes, but he didn't offer her an answer. He usually did. Rochester was a very intuitive dog. He always knew who was good and who was bad, even if she didn't. Both she and her roommate, Audrey, felt safer with him around.

She checked the clock again, but it still told her the same thing. Audrey was late. She threw down the magazine in frustration and began pacing. This was quite out of the ordinary. She was never late.

If Audrey had been more normal for a girl her age, she wouldn't be so worried. If Audrey had been more normal, she might have thought she'd gotten a date or something and just waited patiently for Audrey to come home.

But Audrey wasn't normal. Her roommate, though pretty, with curves Grace could only dream of, straight brown hair and deep, brown eyes, was a very closed off girl. Mysterious was one way of putting it. Anti-social was another, more accurate way. The only two beings Audrey trusted where both in this apartment. One of them wasn't even human.

Grace sighed. That girl needed to lighten up. The quiet, brooding thing was never going to get her a boyfriend. She smiled at how much Audrey would shriek at her if she dared say something like that out loud. They'd had the argument before.

"Haven't you read the Taming of the Shrew?" Grace had asked. "Petruchio wins!"

"Because he _tortured_ her!" Audrey cried.

"Maybe Kate just got tired of being alone all the time," Grace theorized. "Maybe she let him win because she wanted to be close to someone."

Audrey snorted. "You've read the play. He fucking starved her and then kept her awake for days at a time. Sounds like torture to me."

Grace glowered at her friend. "Language." Audrey had rolled her eyes and stormed off, taking out her frustrations on a batch of madelines.

Grace's mind returned to the present. She sighed and ran a hand through her curls. Where was she?

Rochester barked at the door. She whirled. "What is it, boy?" Rochester continued to bark madly at the door. Grace found herself staring at it, her heart pumping adrenaline through her veins. Then suddenly, Rochester stopped barking and started growling.

That was Grace's cue to hop into action. She grabbed Rochester around the middle and ran toward the only other exit the apartment had, the fire escape. For a moment she stood there, just to see if Rochester was right.

Then came pounding on the door. He was right. Grace let out the breath she didn't know she was holding and ran out on the fire escape, shutting the window behind her, and climbing up instead of down. Rochester started barking again, and she panicked. "Shut up!" she cried, reaching around his mouth and trying to muzzle him.

"Where are you," a male voice shouted. "We know you're there!"

Grace just stood there, eyes wide. All she could think was, "Please, please, Audrey, don't come yet, please, please, please."

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><p>This isn't a very long one. It's basically just to explain what happened to Grace.<p>

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	3. In Which They Eat Cake

I do not own Boondock Saints.

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><p>McGinty's pub was crowded and loud when they arrived, but Audrey had been expecting that. In fact, she'd been counting on it. St. Patty's Day had that bar so crowded, it be hard to find anyone in particular in the crowd. Even if they walked in carrying a cake.<p>

Grace was close behind her. "How did you find this place?" she asked, worry lacing her voice. Audrey only shrugged in reply. She hadn't really found it, she'd just run as fast as she could for as far as she could and this was where the creep had caught her.

She walked up to the bar and found the MacManus boys immediately in their place of honor right in front of Doc. She figured those were probably _their_ spots, like their names were written on the stools. "Here you go. Red velvet, cream cheese frosting," she said, placing the cake platter on the bar. "We're even."

The boys looked just the same as they had before. She supposed she did too, but her life had been getting a lot better recently. Her black eye was healing well; it was currently in that sickly green and yellow stage. She and Grace had a new apartment, so they weren't imposing on her father's old friends anymore. She'd done well in six days. At least, that's what she told herself.

Money was still an issue. Grace was doing her freelance journalism thing, and Audrey had started selling baked goods. They were both spending a lot of time volunteering in a free clinic for the sick and injured, run by the Catholic church.

"Well," Connor said, "Look who remembered us Murph!"

Murphy looked at her then peered through the platter's plastic lid. "I still say she's probably a terrible cook."

"Try some then," she said, turning to Doc. "Got any plates back there? And a knife and forks would be nice."

"S-s-sure, l-lass," he said, quickly bringing out the requested items.

"Who's this?" Connor asked, looking at the girl behind her.

She turned and pulled Grace to stand beside her. "Connor, Murphy, this is Grace. Grace, this is Connor and Murphy MacManus."

As she spoke, she pulled the platter's lid off and served it up. The boys both took a bite at the same time, and then made the same disgusted face.

She scowled at them both, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'd hit you, but you might choke," she said. "If it's so awful, spit it out."

Connor broke first, swallowing and laughing. "Pretty good, I'll admit," he said, taking another bite.

"Told ya," she said, cutting some more slices. "Though you should have let me bake the spiced cake with penuche frosting," she said, grinning. Connor made a face.

Grace laughed grabbing a piece of cake for herself. "I know it sounds disgusting, but it's really quite good. Audrey's a fabulous baker." She got her cake and sat herself on the nearest bar stool; the one on Murphy's other side. Audrey pursed her lips, and looked at the one between the two boys, which Grace was obviously leaving for her. She didn't want to sit though.

"What is penuche anyway?" Connor asked.

Audrey opened her mouth to reply when someone burst in behind them. Both the MacManus boys grinned wide when they saw him, shouting a chorus of "Rocco!" Audrey was on the other end of the spectrum, suddenly frozen in horror.

He was one of Yakavetta's.

Common sense made her calm down. He probably wouldn't know who she was, it was obvious he wasn't here on business and he couldn't be more than a package runner anyway. And he was welcome here. All good signs, she told herself. Her heart started beating regularly again.

"Hey Fuck Ass!" he said to Doc. "Get me a beer!" Everyone cheered and Rocco sat down in between Connor and Muphy, forcing her to scoot over until she was practically sitting in Murphy's lap. Not liking the new position, Audrey disentangled herself from the Irishman and stood behind the three of them. "What's with the cake?" Rocco asked.

"She baked it for us," Murphy said, motioning to Audrey. Rocco turned around, and Connor took over the introductions. "Rocco, this is Audrey and that" he said, pointing to the blond girl, "is Grace. Audrey and Grace, Rocco."

She stuck out her hand. "Pleased to meet you," she and Grace said as Rocco shook Audrey's hand.

"What do you have to do to get one of those?" Rocco asked.

"Save her hide," Connor answered.

She scoffed. "And then be a pain in the ass about it. It's not like you did anything more than look threatening." She turned back to Rocco. "You could just pay me to make you cake."

"Can I have some of that?" Rocco asked. She shrugged.

"It's theirs," she said, indicating the twins. "Ask them."

The twins weren't going to jealously hog their cake (especially since Grace and Doc had already stolen themselves a piece.) No sooner had Rocco snared a piece than many of the other patrons asked them for some. It was really too big a cake for them to eat by themselves anyway, and it was very quickly decimated.

"Do you want a piece?" Connor asked when there were only two left.

She shook her head. "Not at all. I made it remember? I had to lick the bowl and everything." Which wasn't true, she'd simply washed it down the sink. Usually she let Rochester lick the bowl, but this was chocolate and he couldn't have it.

"Sure you don't want anything?" he asked again.

She smiled and indicated the beer she'd ordered about an hour ago. "I'm fine." It would probably take all night for her to finish it. She didn't really like alcohol; caffeine was her drug of choice.

Connor shrugged, and took the piece he'd been offering for himself. "Suit yourself."

Eventually, she managed to snag one of those bar stools, one on Connor's other side. Most of the St. Patty's crowd had left, and she was thinking about going too, whether Grace wanted to or not. Rochester would be worried. But she needed her platter, and there was one piece left. It had been sitting there, mocking her for over an hour now. And it's not like the conversation was overly stimulating.

"It's not that I'm homophobic," Rocco was saying. "It's just that I'm afraid of faggots." She snorted, and the twins laughed out loud. "What?"

Doc chose that moment to gather everyone's attention. "I got some bad news. Looks like I'm gonna have ta close d-down the bar. The Russians have been buying up buildings all over town, including this one... Fuck!... Ass! And they're not letting me renew my lease. I got the end of the week to come up with 26,000 dollars, or they take the place. I left them a note telling them not to show their faces t-. They been pressuring me ta close and take the last few days ta get all my shit outta here but it's my right to stay open t-ta the last."

There was a chorus of disappointment. This was unacceptable. "Maybe I can talk to my boss," Rocco offered, but Doc shook his head and waved Rocco's words away. Audrey didn't blame him. Involving the Yakavetta family was not going to make any problem better.

"L-l-listen," Doc was saying, "I don't want anyone ta know until the last possible moment. So you guys keep your traps shut!" He peered over his glasses at the row of people in front of him. "Ya know what they say; People in glass houses sink ships."

She laughed right out loud at that.

Rocco chuckled. "Y'know Doc, I gotta get you a, a, like a proverb book or something. This mix and match shit's gotta go."

"What?" Doc asked, inciting a chorus of chuckles.

"Well, a penny saved is worth two in the bush, isn't it?" Connor said, imitating the bartender.

Murphy followed with, "And don't cross the road if you can't get out of the kitchen." Everyone laughed, including Doc, who poured each of the boys another shot of Hennessey.

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><p>Grace was having a great time. She was going to kick Audrey's butt for failing to mention that the MacManus boys were smoking hot. She was fiercely glad she'd decided to come with her friend for this little event. Especially because she got to sit next to the darker twin. He turned out to be a bit of a Trekkie, too, a major plus.<p>

Suddenly, the door slammed open, and everyone turned at the same time to see three big men walk in. _If they aren't Russian,_ she thought, tucking some of her blond hair behind her ear, _Rochester's a poodle._

The three men came to stand just behind the bar. As one, all the patrons stood from their stools and faced them. She did too, seeing that the others had come to the same conclusion she had. The Russians were here for Doc. They would protect him.

"I am Ivan Checkov," said the biggest one, the leader. "You vill be closing now."

"Checkov?" Murphy asked. He gestured to Rocco. "Well, this here's McCoy. We find Spock and we have enough for an away team."

She couldn't help but laugh at that. "Save the whales," she cheered quietly. Apparently, though, Chekov had no appreciation for Trekkie humor. He looked like he was about to lose his short temper.

"Why don't you make like a tree," Doc said, "and get the fuck outta here!" Grace moaned a little at Doc's continued failure to get the sayings right.

Connor and Murphy each turned and grabbed a Guinness with their Hennessey free hand. "Listen fellas, he's got 'til the end of the week. You don't have to be hard asses, do ya?" Connor asked.

"Yeah," Murphy added. "It's St. Patty's day. Everybody's Irish tonight. Why don't you just pull up a stool and have a drink with us?"

"This is no game!" Chekov said, losing his temper and swatting the beer out of the twin's hands. "If you do not go," he threatened, "ve vill make you go."

Connor looked from one side to the other, seeming a little confused. "Look, if you want to fight, you can see you're out numbered here. We're trying to be civil, so I suggest you take our offer."

"_I_ make the offers," Chekov replied. Grace tensed, her flight-or-fight instincts perking up.

"Hey Boris," Rocco said, and Grace bit her lip. He was about to do something stupid, she could hear it in his voice. Chekov turned to him indulgently. "What would you do," he began, "if I told you your pinko commie mother sucks so much dick" Chekov punched him in the face, but amazingly Rocco still managed to finish the joke on the way down, "her face looks like an egg!" That was pretty much all he could do though. She didn't know as much about medicine as Audrey, but she knew he wouldn't be doing much for a while.

Suddenly, Connor spoke to them in fluent Russian. Murphy added something in the same language. She was quite impressed. She couldn't make heads nor tails of Russian.

The Russians looked simply dumbfounded, completely unable to grasp the fact that these Irishmen were speaking their language.

The boys then downed their glasses of Hennessey. She had time to think _Here we go_, before they each dropped to one knee and punched Chekov in the quads.

The whole bar erupted from there. Grace was grabbed by one of Checkov's men. She quickly broke his hold and twisted away from him. The Russian made another grab, but Murphy came out of nowhere and started throwing all kinds of punches and kicking all kinds of butt.

The Russian was bigger than him though, and picked up the Irishman and threw him on a bench lining the wall, closing in on him. Murphy had nowhere to go. Grace stepped forward, but Connor stopped her.

"Stay away!" Connor yelled. "He can take care of himself!" Grace watched as Murphy pull two wine bottles from the shelf above his head and slam them so hard against the other man's temples they broke. She was frozen in place for a moment. His expression captivated her. It was one of absolute fury, dark as the night and focused on a single point.

Audrey grabbed her arm, breaking the spell. "Help me with this," she said, waving a first aid kit in Grace's face.

"Where did you find that?" Grace asked. Audrey shrugged, then turned to the rest of the bar.

"Is anyone hurt?" Audrey asked. Grace sighed. Her friend had been born a doctor.

The guys all smiled and laughed. "Just the Russians," was the general consensus. The boys began to lift up Chekov, but Audrey wouldn't let Grace watch. Instead, Grace was dragged over to the big man Connor had thrown against the wall.

"You know what to do," Audrey said, handing her the necessary supplies. Grace sighed. Some people lived by the Bible. Audrey lived by the Hippocratic Oath.

Grace watched as Audrey went over to Murphy's fallen Russian and pulled on some rubber gloves. She put on her own gloves and examined the unconscious man. There was some glass here and there. She picked it out carefully and bandaged it, but some of those cuts would need stitches.

A scream from the bar made her whirl around. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw Chekov on fire. "What the hell?" she heard Audrey shout, and watched as she ran up to the bar. She grabbed the Russian leader's leather jacket and used it to smother the flames. "That's awful. Things like this come back to haunt you, dickhead!"

Audrey and Connor were glaring at each other. "He deserves it," Connor said. Grace stood, ready to intervene if this went badly.

"He's beaten," Audrey replied, going behind the bar, finding a cloth, wetting it, and wrapping some ice in it. "He's a bastard, but you've already won. There's no need to torture him."

"Why are you helping him?" Rocco asked, accusing.

"I'd rather help someone who doesn't deserve it," Audrey said through clenched teeth, "than deny help from someone who needs it." She didn't look at anyone, busying herself with cooling down the affected area. Grace hoped Audrey wouldn't try to treat that particular wound herself. She sighed in relief when she realized Audrey was just going to use a bandage to keep the ice in place.

"You're going to go to a hospital," she said to him rather brusquely. Grace sighed. Audrey really hated this man, but she would help him anyway. Grace had never been good at that sort of thing.

Grace didn't like the way everyone was staring at her friend. Some of them were looking apologetic, and others angry. She could not decipher the looks of the MacManus boys. Rocco looked like he hadn't decided how to feel. She removed her gloves and walked up to Audrey, who was glaring daggers at everyone, from Doc to Checkov to Connor.

Grabbing her friend's shoulders, she gently steered Audrey out of there. "Bye," she called quietly over her shoulder.

When they were outside, Audrey said, "We forgot the fucking cake platter."

"Language," Grace said, sighing.

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><p>Thank you the reviews! :D I'm glad you like the story, and you think they fit well. I cannot tell you how much I worried about that. Especially since these first few chapters are kind of mish-mash.<p>

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	4. In Which Audrey Sees Truth

I do not own Boondock Saints.

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><p>"Bitch!" the man shouted, punching Audrey on her collarbone. "Stay away from the whore!" He grabbed her patient by the hair and began dragging her away.<p>

She took the blow. She was so angry it didn't register. "This woman needs serious medical attention," she shouted. "If you don't release her right now, I swear, I'll call the police." Her hands were curled into tight fists.

The man growled at her. "The police can't do a fuckin' thing. Stay outta my way." He pushed her away from him, so roughly she fell to the floor. He had his wife and pulled her out of the clinic with him.

She cursed at him in French. She used to wonder why she'd been made her learn it, but now she knew. It was so she could say whatever she wanted and no one would understand her. Boston had a lot more Spanish and Italians wandering around than French.

A hand grasped her shoulder. "Let him go." She turned to see Grace. "It's not worth you getting hurt," she continued.

"It is if I can help that woman," she said, starting to jerk away, but Grace's grip was firm.

"You're only a volunteer, Audrey," she said. "I know the nurses let you get away with doing a lot stuff you shouldn't be, but what if the pastor found out?"

"What the fuck does he know?" she hissed. "That poor woman…" Grace spun her around and gripped both her shoulders.

"You can't save everyone," Grace said, staring right in her eyes. Audrey glared ferociously at the ground, but she knew Grace was right. "Now get back to work," the blonde said. She did so.

The morning after St. Patty's day had her sewing up a lot of hung over Irishmen, beat up by their exploits the night before. It was very early in the morning, but she'd already had one guy stumble in, completely naked, with a plastic green top hat stuck up his ass. M.D.s handled that one.

So it was unsurprising that she didn't notice the two men in dirty bathrobes until it was time for her to clean them up. "Jesus Christ," she exclaimed when she saw Murphy half dragging, half carrying Connor into her suture room. She helped him get his brother up on the examination table. "Fucking Russians, right?"

"If your gonna say 'I told you so,'" Connor said, his accent thicker than normal, "I'll kick your ass, girl or not." She ignored him, instead examining the handcuffs on his wrists.

"Grace!" she shouted. "Could you help me with these?" She gestured to the handcuffs.

Grace popped her head in and saw the boys. "Oh my goodness!" she said. Quickly, she pulled a hair pin from her bun. Several curls fell out, but she ignored them. Instead, she unfolded the pin and picked the cuffs.

"Thanks," Audrey said, throwing the cuffs in the trash.

"You're pretty good at that," Murphy commented, playing with a cigarette.

"Don't light that," Audrey said, picking up Connor's right hand and gently examining it. His wrist was cut from pulling hard on the cuffs. It was also warm. "You look awful," she said, glancing up at him.

"You don't look so great yourself," said Murph, no longer playing with the cigarette. He had a yellow bag he was rummaging through now.

"What?" she asked, thrown by the unexpected comment. He touched his collarbone, reminding her of the incident earlier this morning. "Oh, that. It's nothing. Sometimes people don't want your help."

"Who was it?" Connor asked. His voice rougher than usual, and his hands balled up. His wrists must have hurt more than she thought. She tried to make her movements softer.

"Don't do that," she said quietly, gingerly pulling his hand flat. "I hope you gave 'em hell."

"I thought you didn't approve of violence," said Murphy.

"If they show up beaten half to death, I'll fix 'em up, but I have to, you know?" she shook her head. "You don't know. Never mind. The full explanation is too long and confusing." She carefully wrapped his wrist in gauze.

"They're dead," Connor said. Grace and Audrey both jumped. Audrey looked at Connor and their eyes met for a moment. Her went all nervous and fluttery in her chest, and she didn't like the feeling. Quickly, she dropped her gaze and went back to her work. She finished taping up the one wrist in silence. She was glad the Russians were dead, even though she knew that was an awful thing to think.

She picked up his other hand. For the first time, she noticed the tattoo there. It said Veritas. She looked up at him. "Truth?" Connor looked back at her, but he didn't say anything. Her heart did that uncomfortable thing again. This time her kidneys joined in.

"You know Latin?" Murphy asked. She went back to her work and her organs went back to normal.

"I was a classics major in college. We know Greek and Hebrew too," Grace said. Audrey looked at her friend to see she was helping Murphy with a few scrapes. "Audrey was a bio major, but she helped me study. We learned together."

She finished up the other wrist. "Let's see your head," she said, moving a step closer. She started to wash the blood away. There was quite a bit of it, but it was mostly dry. Head wounds bled a lot. She brushed some of his hair out of the way. "Won't even need a bandage," she said, finishing washing the blood off. "It looks a lot worse than it is. Why can't you walk?"

"Fell," Connor said. She stepped away and looked at his legs, and saw his left knee. She bent to examine it closer.

"From how far?" she asked warily, as she began to patch up his leg. Connor shrugged, but didn't answer her question. She finished bandaging his leg. "Put as little weight on it as possible today, but you should be fine by tomorrow. Honestly, you're really lucky."

"I don't feel lucky," Connor said as she and Murphy helped him off the table.

"You're alive," she pointed out. "You can stay here as long you want, but you can't stay in this room. I've other people to take care of."

"You're kickin' us out?" Connor asked.

"Yep," she said, smiling sweetly. "I'm sure you'll find something to do." They grinned and winked, their smiles far more mischievous than hers.

"Keep up the good work, girls," Connor said as they started to walk out.

"You guys be careful!" Grace replied.

"What are you going to do now?" asked Audrey.

Murphy shrugged. "Turn ourselves in."

Audrey nodded. Noble, that fit them. "Hey, next time we meet," she said as they were headed out the door, "let's nobody get hurt, alright?"

The MacManus boys laughed. "You two got a number?" Connor asked. Grace smirked and grabbed a pen. "Here," she said, writing it down on a pad of sticky notes advertising some drug company. "That's the only one you get, so don't lose it," she said, and stuck it to his forehead. "Now get!"

They laughed as they walked out. Audrey stood there for a moment, grinning like an idiot, when Grace suddenly turned to her. "Well, well, well," said she said to her friend. "What do we have here?"

Audrey frowned and started to get back to work. "What?"

"I always knew you'd find a man," Grace replied, "but I didn't expect you to find one without even trying." Grace sounded wistful. "You're so lucky."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied, cleaning up her room a little. It didn't need to be cleaned, but she wanted something to do so she wouldn't have to look at Grace.

"Connor, silly! You aren't turning into Florence Nightingale on me, are you?"

She spun. "What? How is that relevant?"

"That's the nurse who fell in love with one of her patients, right?" Grace asked, fiddling with some of her curls. Audrey shook her head.

"No," she said. "Florence Nightingale is the nurse who believed God had given her a mission to heal the sick. She took care of wounded soldiers."

Grace looked at her for a moment. "Darn," she said. "I'm too late." Audrey stared at her, eyes wide, as the blond turned around and walked out.

"What the hell does _that_ mean?" She shouted when she'd recovered herself.

"Language!" was the only reply she got.

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><p>Read and Review.<p> 


	5. In Which Grace Get's Free Coffee

I do not own the Boondock Saints.

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><p>"Hey," a familiar voice said over the phone. " Meet you at the Café Mondego at five o'clock." There was a slight pause, and then the message ended. Grace set down the phone and grinned wide. She knew Audrey would be furious with her for giving their new number to someone without asking her first, but Audrey would have to understand.<p>

Grace showed up at the Café Mondego right on time. He met her on the way in. She grinned when she saw him. "After you, Miss Smecker," he said, opening the door for her.

"Uncle Paul!" she ignored the open door and just hugged him.

"Come on," he said, leading her in.

"This place is awesome," she replied as they sat down at a table. "Watch me score a free cup of coffee."

A waiter came up, smiling. "Want a question?" Grace nodded.

"Bring it!"

"What is Mercedes's maiden name?" the waiter asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Herera," she said with certainty. It was fake. She wasn't sure, but if the wait staff knew you weren't sure, they 'd always say you were wrong.

The waiter sighed. "True. One cup of coffee, free of charge. Would you like anything else?" Grace nodded. "And a plain bagel please." The waiter nodded and turned to Uncle Paul.

"Would you like a question?" he asked. Uncle Paul shook his head.

"No thank you, just a café latte and an onion bagel with cream cheese," he said. When the waiter left, he turned to his niece and raised an eyebrow. "Monte Cristo trivia?"

She smiled. "I love this place," she said. "So what are you doing on this side of town? Just visiting me?"

"A case," replied her uncle. "I'm not supposed to discuss it with you."

She pouted. "That's never stopped you before."

They stopped talking momentarily when the waiter came back with their food. When he left, her uncle started talking again. "Well, since it's already solved…" he said, and Grace grinned. "Yesterday, Boston PD found two bodies in the alley, crushed to death. They had bandages, one had bandages around his head, one on his a-butt," he knew his niece's low tolerance for bad language."Well, it turns out they were Russian mob" he stopped, suddenly noticing his niece was white as a sheet. "What's wrong?"

"Russian mob?" she asked. How many Russian guys could have been wandering around with bandages on their buttocks?

Uncle Paul was peering at her. "Spill," he said, leaning back in his chair.

"It was self defense," she said firmly.

"I know that," her uncle said, a little exasperated with her. "I want to know how _you _know it."

"I helped Audrey patch the guys up," she said.

Uncle Paul raised an eyebrow. "Which ones? The Russians or the Irish boys?"

Grace bit her lip. "Both," she said, shrugging. "You know how Audrey is." Uncle Paul nodded. He knew. "We were at the bar on St. Patrick's Day, and then Murphy and Connor came to the clinic we're volunteering at the next morning."

"Why were you at McGinty's on St. Patrick's day?" Uncle Paul asked.

Grace relaxed and made sure to look him in the eye. She shrugged. "They invited Audrey, who brought me along. Audrey made them some cake." She smiled mischievously. "I think she and Connor should get together."

Uncle Paul sat back in his chair and smiled. "Really?" he asked. "I thought the other one was more her type." They were both grinning.

Grace sighed. "I want to play some Much Ado About Nothing on them," she said wistfully.

He chuckled. "I don't think Murphy's the Don Pedro type."

She sniffed. "Then I'll get Rochester to help me." Uncle Paul laughed out loud at that.

"So what's with the new number," he asked. "Why'd you guys move?"

Again she made sure to seem relaxed and looked him in the eye. "The freelance writer thing isn't being very lucrative lately, and Audrey was too busy with her school work to help out."

He frowned. "What about your parents' money?"

She shook her head. "No. That's for emergencies only, you know that."

"And this doesn't qualify because…"

"Because there's another option," Grace said, arms crossed over her chest. The money her parents had left for her was off limits. That was the way it was, the way it had always been since… that day. Grace had promised, and she would not break that promise.

"Grace," Uncle Paul said, rubbing his temples, "you know that promise… it's not..."

"I've heard your opinions about it. I know what you're going to say," she said. Then sighed. "Look at me, fighting with you. Ugh, and I promised myself I wouldn't turn into Dad."

Uncle Paul looked up and smiled. "Don't worry. You've got all the best parts. What about Audrey's parents? Aren't they concerned?"

Grace raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about? Audrey's parents? Audrey's parents are the same as ever. Invisible. I still have not met them, or heard them call. She doesn't even mention them!"

Uncle shrugged and looked sympathetic. "It's a different family."

She looked at him, eyes narrowed. "You say that like you know." Audrey had been welcomed into the Smecker family like Grace's twin sister. The same could not be said for the Owens family. After more than twenty years of friendship, it had become something of a mystery.

Paul shook his head. "Just guessing. I'm good at that."

She continued to look at him. "I've always suspected you knew something."

"I don't know anything. If you want some answers, why don't you ask Audrey?"

Grace looked down and bit her lip. "I'm afraid to. I love her like a sister, and I know she loves me the same way but… I'm afraid asking that question will ruin everything. She'll tell me when she's ready."

Uncle Paul looked at his niece. "Well, tell her I send my best wishes. She's a good person."

Grace shook her head. "I want to ask you just one question."

Paul took a sip of coffee. "Shoot."

"Do you know about Audrey's family because of your job, or because you've been poking your nose into where it doesn't belong."

Paul set down his cup, grinning, and stood. "No comment." He threw some money on the table, enough to cover their food and leave a generous tip. "I've got to go. I've got a date tonight."

She sighed and stood. "A real date, or a… date?" she asked. Sometimes Uncle Paul said he had a date when he really meant he was working a case.

"A real one," her uncle replied.

She grinned. "Really? Good for you!" Poor guy was a workaholic.

Paul grinned at her and cupped her chin. "Until next time," he said, kissing her on the forehead.

"Until next time!" she said, grinning as her favorite uncle walked away. But he paused and turned around. "Did you know the MacManus boys speak Latin?"

Grace raised an eyebrow. "Really? Are they as good as me?" Paul laughed but nodded. She grinned. "No, but they know Audrey and I speak it. They each have Latin words tattooed on their hands."

"I noticed," Paul said. "Did you get a chance to read them?" She nodded. "What do they say?"

"Why?" She asked.

Her uncle shrugged. "Just curious."

"Veritas means truth, and aequitas means justice," she said.

Paul frowned and then continued to walk away. "Truth and Justice?" he called over his shoulder.

Grace nodded. "Truth and Justice."

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><p>I hinted at it before, but now it's all out there, blatant truth. Grace is Agent Smecker's niece.<p>

Yeah, just so you know, everyone is somehow related to everyone in this fic. Not necessarily a blood relation, but they are all connected somehow. I'm not going to just throw random OCs in here. (Though I've been known to do that in the past.) It's a lot more fun this way.

My apologizes, but this chapter is totally a filler. All it does is give some background and make me happy. I really wish I knew of a cafe that gave me free coffee for knowing book trivia. Oh, and by the way, I actually haven't read the Count of Monte Cristo, so if I got Mercedes maiden name wrong, my sincere apologies. I know I should have gone with a book I've read, but I love the name Mondego. It just sounds awesome. I realize that Count Mondego is the bad guy, but his name is so much fun to say! Mondego... It's a lot more fun to say than Dantes.

Read and Review (Or hopefully, you've already read so, just review)


	6. In Which Audrey Answers the Phone

I do not own Boondock Saints. Italics indicate the words are either spoken in another language or are translations, depending on the language.

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><p>She was walking through a vast dark room. The only light came from a lamp in her hand. It revealed cots as she passed, and the injured sleeping in them. She could not see more than a few yards in any direction, but she had been walking through these cots for hours, and still hadn't found the walls of the room. It seemed limitless.<p>

Every once in a while, one of the patients stirred and she went to their side to see what the matter was. She changed bandages and gave water, checked for fevers and cleaned infections. Not all the patients here were men, but none of them were sick from disease. They all suffered from wounds, as if the victims of some great battle.

Eventually, Audrey came upon a face she recognized. It was Murphy, and he was bleeding. She knelt beside him to see that his wounds had not yet been cared for. There was a bullet hole in his arm. Quickly, she set down her lamp and went to work cleaning and dressing the wound. "You're going to be okay," she told him, the first time she had spoken all night. He did not answer. "Can you hear me?" she asked, looking him over. "You're going to be alright." She finished fixing him up, and she tried to rouse him. "Murphy? Murphy!"

Then her lamp went out, and she was plunged into totally darkness. She reached out her hands, grasping for Murphy's cot, for anything solid and real, but she could not even feel ground beneath her feet. She opened her mouth to scream…

Something heavy sat on her chest, and Audrey's eyes shot open. She was looking into the large brown eyes of Rochester. She sat there, looking at her dog, as the realization sank in that she'd been dreaming. "I love you," she said to her brown, furry savior, and gave him a big hug.

She'd had the same nightmare the night before, only that time it had been Rocco she'd failed to wake. One of his fingers, a pinky, had been shot completely off. Again, her lamp had gone out and she'd been plunged into darkness, but last night a voice had boomed around her. She had been entirely unable to discern the timbre of the voice, or whether it was male or female, but the words had rung clearly through her. _Destroy that which is evil, so that which is good may flourish._ Then and now, Audrey had no idea what it meant.

She sighed and got out of bed. Putting a pot of coffee on, she looked around the apartment. There was almost nothing in it. Just two beds, one of which had Grace sleeping in it, a couch, and a kitchen table. She had a stove and a bunch of kitchen supplies littered all over the counter. "I really need to clean up sometime."

"Are you okay?" Grace said, sitting up bleary eyed from her bed. Her blond curls flopped in her face.

"Fine."

"Then be quiet," she said, falling back down on the pillow. Audrey frowned at her friend. She'd been visiting her uncle. She trusted Grace not to tell him anything she shouldn't, but Uncle Paul was smart. Smart enough to figure things out on his own.

Rochester barked, almost as if he was trying to piss Grace off, and she laughed, reaching down to pet him. Her eyes fell on yesterday's newspaper.

The front page story had been about the MacManus boys, and their ordeal with the Russians. The newspapers were calling the twins 'saints.' Her stomach had churned when she read it. The story set off alarms in her woman's intuition like a gun through a metal detector.

Something was beginning. Something destructive.

She sighed and tossed the paper in the trash. "Yesterday's news," she said, going to her tiny bathroom and taking a shower. By the time she was dressed, her coffee was ready.

She looked at the time and saw it was past noon. She was late for work. Audrey cursed violently. "Bâtards de rat d'âne de merde! Merde!"

"Soyez tranquille!" Grace shouted from her bed, stuffing the pillow over her head. _Be quiet! _

The phone rang. "Quoi l'enfer voulez-vous?" she shouted into the receiver. _What the hell do you want?_

"Woah! Du calme!" a man said on the other hand. "Tu parle francais?"_ Calm down! You speak French?_

"Évidemment," she replied. She sighed. "Désolé. Qui êtes-vous ?" _Obviously. Sorry. Who are you?_

"C'est Connor," replied the voice on the other. _It's Connor._

Her eyes widened. "Tu parle francais? Ainsi que russe?" _You speak French? As well as Russian?_

"Who is it?" Grace asked. Audrey ignored her for a moment.

She heard a chuckle on the other end. "Évidemment," he replied. "Quoi est tort?" _Obviously_. _What's wrong?_

"Ça ne te regarde pas," she murmured tiredly. _It has nothing to do with you_.

"C'est bon," said Connor. _That's good._

"So, how are you taking your new rise to stardom?" she asked, switching to English.

"What rise?" Connor asked, changing languages with her. "Everything looks the same to me."

She gave a small chuckle. "Good to know. If your head got any bigger, your neck would break."

"It's Connor, isn't it?" Grace said. Audrey turned to see her getting out of bed and walking over.

"What, me?" Connor asked, mock-indignantly. "Murph's the one with the ego!"

She laughed, hearing a muffled, "Hey, keep me outta this!" in the background.

"So," she asked, getting down to business, "Why'd you call? Decided you wanted that penuche?"

"No…" Connor said, dragging out the word.

"For Christ's sake," she heard Murph say. "Give me the phone!" There was the sound of a struggle, during which Audrey couldn't help grinning.

"Boys!" she shouted into the receiver. "Behave!" Grace was standing next to her, giggling like she could guess what was going down on the other end.

"Sorry," that was both of them. She realized they must have the phone between them. "Audrey, we want to know why someone was trying to kill you."

The good mood instilled by the conversation evaporated. It must have registered in her expression because Grace moved towards her. Audrey maneuvered the phone so she could hear too. "Why?" she asked. "What the hell does it have to do with you?" She tried to make her voice sound harsh and angry, but it wavered slightly.

There was a pause on the other end, and she could just see them looking at each other. "We can't discuss that over the phone," Murph said finally.

"Well, neither can we," she replied, and hung up. Rochester barked at her and Grace gasped. "What?" she asked, looking between them. Grace gave her a scornful look. Amazingly, so did Rochester. "Shut up," she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

The phone rang again. Grace snatched it up and held it to her ear. She didn't say anything, but let Audrey listen too. For a moment there was silence. Then, "Hello?" it was Connor.

"Maybe they just dropped it on the counter or something," said Murph.

"Audrey?" Connor asked. "Are you there?"

Grace took pity on them, sort of. "No," she replied.

"Grace?" Murphy asked. Grace started to giggle.

"Is that really the reason you called," Audrey said, breaking into the conversation.

"We're just tryin' ta help you," Connor said. "Why don't you tell us where you are and we'll meet-" Murphy interrupted him.

"No, we can't leave. What about Rocco?"

Audrey hesitated, and thought over their options. "We could come to you," said Grace quietly. Audrey started and stared at her friend.

"Excuse us a moment," she said. "_Why did you just suggest that?_" she asked in Hebrew.

"_Maybe they can help. Don't you trust them?_" Grace asked in the same language.

"_I _don't_ trust them! No trusting!_" She gulped her coffee.

Grace glared. "_This is my life too. Let me make my own decisions."_

"_We're safe,_" she said. "_We don't need any help."_

"_Maybe I don't want safe. Maybe I want answers,"_ Grace said. She was glaring at her, her blue eyes uncharacteristically hard. Audrey opened her mouth to argue, but she wanted answers too. And the boys…

"_They can't help us_," she said.

"_I think they can," _Grace replied, and then turned back to the phone. The argument was over, and Grace had won. Audrey shrugged. If she remained on her toes, this could work. "We can come to you," Grace repeated, this time in English.

They argued about it for a while, but they did it in Irish. It reminded Audrey of what she and Grace had just done. Eventually it was decided and they gave her an address. Grace wrote it down and everybody hung up.

Audrey sighed and rubbed her temples. She should be going to work, but she was so late, she was sure to be fired. Ugh. "I need to find a real job," she muttered.

"Whatever," Grace said, standing straighter. "Let's just go." She dressed and showered quickly, managing to look fabulous in fifteen minutes. For her part, Audrey pulled a gray hoodie over her head, and attached Rochester's leash to his collar. It was about time he met the MacManus boys. She was beginning to like them too much for her own good. She needed to see what Rochester's opinion of them was.

Grace looked at Rochester and smiled. "It's about time."

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><p>Ugh! Languages! I actually know some French, hence the attempt. I would have attempted some Hebrew too, but their alphabet and mine are not the same. Italics are just simpler. You guys can use your imaginations right?<p>

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	7. In Which There is a Cat on the Wall

I do not own Boondock Saints

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><p>They walked outside. Audrey pulled her hood up and put her sunglasses on. Rochester looked at her and whined a little. She smiled reassuringly at him. "Good boy," she said. "Come on." Leash held firmly in hand, she began to walk.<p>

Grace walked right next to her, also wearing sunglasses and a knit cap. Her blond curls were pulled back fashionably into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck. They made an odd pair.

It didn't take long to reach the address the boys had given them. It was a pretty awful place, but Audrey just hunched her shoulders and walked inside, finding the apartment quickly. The door was unlocked, but she knocked anyway, taking her sunglasses off and lowering her hood. Grace removed her sunglasses too, but her cap stayed on. It was probably part of her ensemble or some such.

Connor opened the door. "Hey," he said. She looked up at him and their eyes locked for a moment. Her body tensed and her heart beat faster. She looked away swiftly. She hated it when that happened! Eye contact was stupid. "Come in." She let Rochester come in first. "Who's this?" Connor asked.

"Rochester, our dog," Grace said, shoving past Audrey. Rochester sniffed the Irishman's shoes.

"He can kick your ass," Audrey added as she waited for the bulldog to pass judgment.

"Language," chided Grace.

After a while, Rochester seemed satisfied and looked up at Connor with his tongue hanging out, smiling happily. Connor reached down and petted him.

Audrey sighed. She was hoping Rochester would smell some kind of evil intentions or something. That would give her an excuse to flee. The longer she hung out with the MacManus boys, the more she wanted to run, and the more she felt rooted in place. The paradox was… uncomfortable, to say the least.

"I thought you said this dog would kick my ass," Murphy said, coming to join everyone else by the front door. Rochester sniffed around his legs too, and came to the same conclusion he had for Connor. Murph smiled. "Doesn't seem very dangerous."

Audrey watched as Grace smiled at Murphy. She quickly closed the door and unlatched Rochester's leash.

The now free Rochester wandered over to a wall with a large red stain on it and immediately began licking it. "What's that?" she asked.

The boys turned, and then looked down at the floor. "Uh, cat blood," Murphy said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Grace blinked. "Oh, well… that's okay then," she said. Audrey grinned and rolled her eyes. She knew Grace didn't like cats much.

Audrey turned to Rochester, "Stop," she ordered. "If you get sick, you're going to have to clean up your own vomit." Rochester looked sheepishly at her, but he backed off. She went back to looking around the place. "Is this your apartment?" She asked.

"No," said Murph. "It's Rocco's."

"It's pretty shitty."

"Yeah," both of them said at the same time.

"Language," Grace reminded her, but she'd noticed something. "Who are they?" she asked, pointing to the two addicts passed out on the couch.

"Rocco's girlfriend and her friend," Murphy said, coming to stand behind her. "Are you going to tell us what's going on?"

"Audrey is," Grace said. Audrey bristled; getting the feeling that statement was meant more for her benefit than for theirs.

"Only if you tell me why you think you need to know," she replied, squaring her shoulders. She sat down at a small table littered with empty cans of Guinness. The boys too sat down, with Grace joining them a moment later. Audrey looked from the twins to the trash on the table and back again. "Quite a party."

"Why do you speak French?" Connor asked, leaning forward with his elbows on the table.

She raised an eyebrow, "Why do you?"

The boys shrugged and leaned back against their seats. "We paid attention in school," Murphy said.

She drew her knees up to her chest. "Grace's mom teaches French at the local high school."

"Can you speak any other languages?" Connor asked. She shook her head.

"Just French, Latin, Greek, and Hebrew," she replied. "You speak," she paused for a second, then started to count them on her fingers, "French, Latin, Irish Gaelic, Russian, and" she thought about it, "probably Italian and Spanish too." Rocco was in the Italian Mafia, which was why she suspected they knew Italian. And if a person knew French, Italian _and_ Latin they knew Spanish.

"You over looked German, but other than that you got it," said Connor.

"Are we ever going to get to the point?" Murphy asked. He looked at her. "Why?"

She glared at him. "You guys first."

They glanced at each other. "No."

She clenched her hands into fists and got up from the chair. "Go fuck yourselves," she said. "Rochester, come." Rochester obediently plodded over, and she started to put the leash back on him.

Murphy looked pleadingly at Grace, but Grace only shook her head. "I'm looking forward to this as much as you guys are." Audrey's hand clenched on the leash. She knew she should have told Grace more, but Grace wouldn't be her friend anymore if she knew, _couldn't_ be her friend anymore.

"Wait," said Connor. She did not look at him, but she stopped messing with her dog's leash. "We'll tell you if you swear to tell us after, alright?" he asked.

"Just know," added Murph, "You aren't going to like it."

"I already don't like it," she said, glowering at the table.

"You swear you'll tell us?" Murphy asked.

"I swear," she said, looking them both in the eyes as she sat back down. Connor's blue eyes nearly trapped her, but she closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. "You can begin any time now."

The boys looked at each other, and she knew they were considering lying to her. She could tell, just like they could decide whether or not to lie without saying a word. Her hands were tight fists again, pressing her nails into her palms.

Then Connor flexed his left hand, and the confrontation was over. She relaxed. _Veritas_.

The boys turned to her, all business now. "Destroy all that which is evil," Connor began. Audrey's blood turned to ice at the words.

"So that which is good may flourish." She and Murphy both spoke at the same time. The four of them were staring at each other, completely taken aback.

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><p>Woohoo! Another chapter! Love you all!<p>

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	8. In Which It is a Bit Early

I do not own Boondock Saints

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><p>It was Murphy who recovered first. "What the-"<p>

"Oh my God," Audrey said, putting her head in her hands. Grace was staring open mouthed at the boys.

"What's going on?" she asked, more than a little shell-shocked.

"Audrey," Connor said. "Murphy and I were given a calling, by God, to kill evil men, to protect the innocent." He was speaking slowly, as if she were a small child being told Santa Clause didn't exist. He reached out and wrapped his hand around her wrist.

Audrey jumped, surprised by the unexpected touch and the warmth that came with it. She took a deep breath. "What do you mean, God gave you a calling? Like in a dream?" They nodded. "And the words just boomed around you?" They nodded again. She felt sick to her stomach. "When was this?"

"The night after you patched me up," Connor replied. His hand tightened, and the warmth flowing up her arm intensified.

The same night she started to dream of wounded soldiers. Grace looked at her. "Audrey… you're… are they…?"

"Shit, shit, shit," was all she could say in reply. The cots. The thousands and thousands of cots. Thousands and thousands of injured men.

Grace looked between the two boys. "So you basically run around killing people?" she asked. They nodded. "Oh my God," she repeated. "How did Audrey know what you were going to say?"

"Good question," Murphy muttered

"What are you supposed to be doin'?" Connor asked Audrey.

She took a deep breath, and thought about it for a moment. She had no fucking idea. "How the hell should I know?" she asked, glaring at them. Why did these boys have to make her life so damn _complicated_? "But it's _not _killing people!"

"Better not be," Murphy muttered.

"But you-" Connor began.

The door burst open and they all jumped, including Rochester. "Pack your shit!" Rocco shouted stumbling in. "Pack your shit! We gotta go!" Connor released her wrist like it bit him or something. Audrey found herself mourning the loss. And hating herself for it.

"What?" They all jumped up. She grabbed Rochester and put his leash back on.

"They set me up," Rocco was saying, "They fucking set me up!"

"What happened?" Connor asked.

"I killed 'em," Rocco shouted. "I killed 'em all!" Audrey stopped listening. Rocco was madly shoving things into a bag. It looked completely random, what he chose to bring. Half the stuff he shoved in there was trash.

More words were exchanged as the twins tried to discern what happened, but Rocco was too panicked for reason.

"Rocco!" the two drug addicts had woken up. Rocco stormed toward them.

"What?"

"Where's my cat?" one of them asked. They apparently had no idea that this was _not_ the time.

"Your cat?" he asked, "I killed your cat, you druggie bitch!"

Her eyes widened, "Oh God… why?"

"I thought it would bring closure to our relationship!"

"You killed my…my…." The woman couldn't remember her cat's name.

"Your what!" He pulled out his gun. "Your fuckin' what? I'll tell you what!" He pointed the gun at his own head. "Your what, bitch? I'll shoot myself in the head, you can tell me that cat's name! Go ahead… Your what? Your precious little…

Audrey stepped forward. This was out of control, but someone grabbed her arm. She looked back to see Connor give a slight shake of his head. "Help us pack up," he said, handing her a mess of tangled rope. "Can you untangle that?" She nodded and set to it, looking to see that Grace was already helping Murphy pack.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Not sure," Connor replied.

"My couch is a hide-a-bed," she said, focusing on her rope. That was probably a bad idea, inviting them to her place, but she wanted to get to the bottom of this mess fast.

She got the rope coiled quickly. "Come on, let's go!" Murphy said, as they all filed out the door, leaving the two addicts crying on the couch.

"What are these bitches doing here?" Rocco said, when he realized the girls were not only in the apartment, but following them.

"They're with us," Connor said. Something in his expression said there was no arguing that point. Murphy's expression was a mirror image.

"Are you sure you killed 'em, Roc?" Grace asked. Audrey looked at her, and realized Grace had been listening carefully while she had been tuning it out.

"Oh man," Rocco said, apparently deciding he could deal with the girls for the moment. "Oh man, it's like a slaughter house over there."

"Listen Roc," Connor asked. "Did anybody see ya?"

"Fuck man," Rocco moaned. "I might as well have gone around posting fliers. Right out in public, man."

They all piled into the car. Connor got in the driver's seat, and she and Grace got into the back, Audrey setting Rochester on her lap. Murphy patted Rocco on the back. "Liberatin', isn't it?"

"You know," Rocco said as he got into the back seat next to Audrey. "It is a bit."

"Let's fucking go!" Connor shouted, starting the engine.

They rode in silence for a while, Rochester sniffing Rocco. He licked his face, deciding he liked the hairy Italian. "What the fuck?"

"It means he likes you," explained Grace. "Be happy about it."

"Yeah," said Murphy. "That dog can kick your ass."

She and Connor chuckled. "Shut the fuck up," Rocco said, eyeing Rochester distrustfully.

"Where do you live?" Connor asked.

"What?" Rocco looked up. "We're going to _their _place?"

"Got any better ideas?"asked Murphy. Rocco had to admit he didn't. Grace gave Connor the address. They drove the rest of the way in silence.

Except when they passed the strip joint, the Sin Bin. "Hey stop the car! Connor, stop the car!" Rocco shouted.

Audrey raised an eyebrow. "Bit early, isn't it?"

"Vincenzo, that fat motherfucker, Yakavetta's right hand. He's the one who set me up!" Rocco said, by way of explanation. "Then he went around, shooting his mouth off, telling everyone I was as good as dead. He goes in there every Wednesday night around 10:00, he jerks off in the same booth to the same titty dancer. Never misses."

"So?"

Rocco looked at the boys. "So? So let's kill the motherfucker. I mean, what are you guys… that's like you new thing, right?"

The twins looked at each other. "Yeah, well…" Connor began.

"Oh," Rocco looked between the two boys in disbelief. "What the fuck? How do you guys decide who you're…" he looked sideways at the girls. "I mean, who makes the cut? Is there a raffle or something?"

"We know about it, Rocco," Grace said, rolling her eyes.

"To tell you the truth," Murphy said, "Those first ones, they just sorta fell into our laps."

"We don't really have a system of deciding who," Connor added.

Rocco looked between the two. "Me! Me! I'm the guy! I know everyone, their habits, where they hang out, who they talk to. I have names, addresses. I know who they're fuckin', I know where they live! We could kill everyone."

Murphy looked at Connor. "What do you think?"

Connor considered for a moment. "I'm strangely comfortable with it." He started the car again. "Audrey?" he asked as they drove off.

She shrugged. "I told you, I'm not killing. It doesn't matter to me."

"Grace?"

"I'm good," she said. Her voice was colder than Audrey had ever heard it.

Everybody shrugged. "Okay then," Connor said as they headed toward the girls' apartment. "10:00?"

"10:00," Rocco replied.

Audrey gave an ironic grunt. "Sounds like a date." She was not happy about this.

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	9. In Which The Boys do Dishes

I do not own Boondock Saints.

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><p>When they got to the apartment, Grace immediately began working on sleeping arrangements. She pulled out the sofa bed and made it up. The apartment was simple. It was basically one big room and a little bathroom to the side.<p>

"Alright, you boys will sleep on the sofa bed, Rocco on that bed over there," she said, pointing to her own."

"Why am I on that little one?" asked Rocco.

She raised an eyebrow. "Because I assumed you'd want to sleep by yourself. But which one of the boys do you want to share with?" she asked.

Rocco was not amused. "I'll take the little one."

Murphy clapped him on the back. "Consider yourself lucky, Roc. Connor snores."

"I do not!" Connor cried, indignant.

"Where does the dog sleep?" Rocco asked.

"Where ever he wants," she replied pointing to it. "Be prepared to wake up to his face. That door leads to the bathroom. Leave the seat up, and you'll wish you were dead."

"So we're all sleeping in the same room, then?" Murphy asked, looking around.

Grace raised an eyebrow. "Got a problem with that?"

"I'm fine if you are," he said.

Audrey was busing herself in the kitchen, fixing some food. Grace had no idea what she was doing, but she trusted Audrey in the kitchen. Whatever came out of there would be good. Rochester butted his head against his owner's leg. She smiled, gave him something. "Here you go boy."

"You spoil him, silly," Grace said, scanning the ingredients. "Beef?"

"Smells good," said Connor. She looked up to see the three men standing around the room.

"Meat pies in the oven. Here are the rules," Audrey said. Grace grinned, knowing what came next. "Whoever doesn't cook does the dishes. It'll go a lot faster if one of you washes, one of you dries, and one of you puts them away." She pushed past them and sat at the counter, reading one of her books.

"Wh- But we've got a job to do!" Murphy protested.

"In four hours. The food will be done in about twenty minutes. That's plenty of time for you to eat then do the dishes."

"We have to get ready!" said Connor.

"Then the dishes will be here when you get back." She smiled sweetly at them. Grace watched from a distance, smothering her giggles.

"There is no way you're getting out of this one, boys. Not if you want to eat that," said Grace, nodding her head in the direction of the oven. "If you start now, you'll be done with most of that before the food is done. I'll put the stuff away, because I know where it goes. Pay attention."

The boys grumbled. Audrey kept reading her book, but Grace could see she was grinning. "Come on boys," she said, piling the dishes in the sink. "Rocco, you wash. Connor, you rinse. Murphy, you dry. Let's go." She clapped her hands.

Grumbling, the boys all walked over to the little sink and started doing their jobs. Grace joined them, standing next to Murphy, waiting for him to hand her a dish.

Rocco was filling the sink with water when Audrey's hand shot between him and Connor and under the faucet. "No good. It has to be _hot_ water. Nearly scalding." She looked at Connor. "Same for rinsing."

Then she backed out and caught Grace's eye, glancing between her and Murphy, then raising her eyebrows. Grace blushed and frowned at her friend. Sometimes Audrey was just too smart for her own good. She had this annoying tendency to ignore her own love life and pay attention to Grace's. _"Shut up_," she said in Greek, taking the dish Murphy handed her.

Audrey only laughed, going back to reading her book.

"What did you say?" Murphy asked, whispering to her.

"Nothing," she said, putting the dish away. "It's nothing."

"So what was she laughing at?" Murphy asked. Grace realized that they were really close. Well, she knew they'd be close, because she'd set this up for that very reason, but… she hadn't expected her heart to beat so fast.

Grace grinned at him. "She likes making fun of me. It's fair though. I like making fun of her, too."

Murphy smirked a little and handed her another dish. "You-"

The oven's timer went off. "Hello," Audrey said, putting her book down. "That's convenient."

"So convenient," Grace muttered, rolling her eyes. Audrey was pulling some really tasty looking pastries out of the oven. "What did you say this was again?"

"Meat pies. Something I could bake without requiring much stove work," Audrey said, setting the cookie sheet of pies of the table. "There's five of us and thirteen of them so it's not coming out even."

Rocco frowned. "You girls get two, we get three. What's so hard about that?"

"Are you kidding me?" Grace asked. "Why do the boys get three? I haven't eaten all day!"

"What kind of sexist are you?" Audrey asked.

"No, it's just that-" Rocco stuttered.

"Just that what? Are you saying we're fat?" Grace's eyes got wide, and she pretended to cry. "He just called me fat!"

"Did you just call her fat?" Audrey growled, picking up a steak knife and jabbing it in his general direction.

"I-" Rocco stuttered, caught between the knife and the tears. "I- uh- I didn't"

Audrey dropped the knife and started laughing. Grace looked up. "Audrey!"

"I'm s-sorry," she said, in between giggles, "did you see his face? He really looked scared!"

The boys burst out laughing. "That was-" Connor said.

"You guys were just fucking with me?" asked Rocco. He stood up. "You know, I'm sick of always being the butt of the joke!"

Grace laughed. "You're not," she said giggling, "always. We play jokes on each other all the time," she pointed between herself and Audrey. "And when you make it so easy…"

"We just can't resist," Audrey finished. "You're the Funny Man. Don't you ever do anything like that?"

Grace frowned. Funny Man? What was that about? Rocco was frowning too. "How did you know I was the Funny Man?"

Audrey shrugged. "I'm not sure. I can't remember who told me the ginkgo is the oldest tree in existence either. When you're quiet, you hear lots of stuff, and I worked at a church clinic. Good mixture of people come around there."

"So… do you know what that means?" Rocco asked.

"Not at all," Audrey said, stabbing a pie with her fork and dumping it on her plate. "You guys going to eat?"

They were all looking at each other, but Grace shrugged and started eating too. Then everybody else started eating. It was a kind of tense silence that Audrey acted oblivious to. But Grace knew something was up. She'd been the one to teach Audrey to lie convincingly. Why was she lying now?


End file.
